everything is so sweetly awful, so continuously and
sweetly awful: the art of consumation: life eating
Mozart came as close as
the impossibility of being human
all too human
in and out
out and in
these mad dogs of glory
moving this little bit of light toward
– quotes from “You get so alone at times that it just makes sense” by Charles Bukowski
the proclaimers are everywhere.
they are always getting
they seldom begin.
and when they do
they quit easily.
we were never meant to be what we are or where
we are, we are looking for an escape, some music
from the sun, the girl we never found.
we are betting on the miracle again
there before the purple mountains
and what about
the dark streets of Dublin?
the last page of the book?
the green park bench alone?
the last necktie?
the last footstep
this incomplete sob of darkness.
a wingless bird waiting.
a druid in the wasted light.
a drunk in the gutter.
the singing of fools
and the volcano laughing.
– quotes from “Bone palace ballet: new poems” by Charles Bukowski